


Rewind

by orphan_account



Category: Arctic Monkeys, Last Shadow Puppets
Genre: Angst, M/M, Motorcycles, Nostalgia, Rushed, don't talk to them for 8 years, high school shenanigans, how to pick up guys:, just two blokes fuckin in the desert, then hit them with your car, very angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 08:04:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8570809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: After eight years of not speaking to each other, Matt and Alex have an unexpected run-in in the American Desert, where they spend some time catching up.





	

**Author's Note:**

> oh boy this took me way longer than I wish it did but here it a decent amount of trash. 
> 
>  
> 
> also I posted on mobile so if there's any formatting errors that's why

 

The street ahead of him had no means to end, while the street behind him was vacant for miles. Reluctantly, Alex turned into the unkempt parking lot. The lucky dice on his rearview mirror flew up and off, landing in the passenger seat. He grunted and briefly turned his attention to picking them up. When his focus was back on his driving, he slammed the brakes, just barely hitting a motorcyclist.

The man got up and brushed himself off, his expression unreadable under his helmet. Alex sat frozen with both of his hands at his mouth. Just today, he wasn't very interested in getting shot. He double-checked the locks on the car then rolled down the window just enough for the man to hear him.   
“I'm so sorreh, I di'nt see th- you- I…” The cyclist looked up and pulled off his aviators.   
“Matthew?!”  
Matt narrowed his eyes and unbuckled the helmet, discarding it on the handles of the motorbike.  
“Alex? Holy shit! Your hair…”  
He pointed a gloved hand at his messy quiff. Alex attempted to look up it and started adjusting in the now-diceless rearview mirror.

“Yeah… Yeah! It's nice…” He started, “I-I'm sorreh I hit you wi'f me car.”

Matt shrugged.

“Nowt some tequila can't fix,” He laughed and folded his arms across his chest.

Alex backed into the nearest space, knowing he probably be won't be very sober when he pulls out; however, it wasn't as if he didn't plan on pulling over and sleeping on the side of the road. He took a moment to collect himself while watching Matt disappear through the bar doors in the mirror. They had not spoken since graduation, and 6th form had been mostly a slow drift apart. It's very easy to forget friendships when your parents are on the verge of splitting up, or your dad's picked up his drinking habit again. Two years ago, Matt had sent a text asking Alex, “How are you doing?”  
Of course he forgot to answer- too busy studying for his exam. That probably led Matt to assume he had changed his number since, and didn't bother to text again. He would have loved to reconnect had he not been trying to put the past behind him.

Eventually, he stepped out after an intense two-minute session with a comb and some hair gel. Much to his displeasure, he jumped out and right into a puddle, staining his leather shoes with orange mud. He took off his sunglasses and threw them into the seat, only to decide against it and put them back on.

He strutted into the bar, taking the stool next to Matt. Aside from the quiet couple with a family-sized meal in the corner, and a stereotypical cowboy on the far end of the counter, they were the only customers in there.   
“Took ya long enough,” Matt chuckled, ordering two glasses of whiskey and showing the bartender his ID. Alex swallowed nervously. Just once his leather jacket and fancy haircut couldn't save his confidence.

Matt slid one glass to Alex and took a lax swig of his own. His eyes visibly widened as he watched Alex down his in ten seconds and order another.  
“Holy shit, mate! You haven't changed at all,” Matt cackled. Alex flashed his ID even though he was fairly certain the bartender wasn't looking.   
“You remember Michael's grad party? You took so many shots that you passed out on the couch and Nick covered you in cushions so no one would see ye then Dave's drunk girlfriend took a nap on you.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Of course I remember, you won't let me forget,” He said.

“Well… After 8 years you tend to forget things,” Matt sighed.

Matt's tone hit stuck like the unsettled dust before a windstorm. Even after adjusting to a million new faces in college, he'd never forget how to read his best friend. The furrowed eyebrows and the subtle lift of the dark blue pupils beneath them as he drank. The way his lips tightened from the effort of holding back his tongue- all indicators of a rousing debate.

  
Alex put down his drink and sighed. It was better to confront him now rather than later.  
“Matt, how many times will I have to tell you that I'm sorry?”

  
“Dunno. I'm probably not going to forgive you, but in the end I'll get over it. I just have to know why you never tried to contact me or any’fing. You knew what was going on wi’f me parents and whatnot and you didn't bother to ask me if I were okay… No text or n’uffin’…”

  
Alex raised his hands in mock-defense.   
“I would have gotten back to you, but I were busy. I didn't get a bachelor’s in Classics from a cereal box.”

  
Matt took an angry gulp of whiskey and swiveled his stool to face Alex.   
“Oh really? Would it have been too much effort to just answer a-” He looked around the room and lowered his voice below the radio “ _Fucking text message_?”

  
Alex flinched as some of Matt’s spit landed in his eye. He wiped it off indignantly and brushed his hand on his jeans.   
“I would say sorr’eh but I don't think it’d do much good…”

  
“Damn right.”

  
Both of the boys turned back to the liquor shelf searching for a new conversational topic. Matt’s expression lightened and his drinking slowed.   
“You and Miles still… y’know, whatever you were.”

  
Miles’s slightly crooked face popped into Alex’s mind at the sole mention of the scouser’s name.   
“No… He got weird after 6th form.”

  
Matt narrowed his eyes.   
“Weird how?”

  
“Well, I don't think he does anymore, but it were sort of the honeymoon phase of having no more parents around, I guess, an’ he started doing coke and grass, so I didn't want to be around him much then. He drank a lot, too. He joost weren't the same person I fell in love with, anymore.”

  
Matt grinned. “Still a poet, Turner.”

  
“And for Breana?” Alex asked, perking up a bit.

  
“Oh, I actually wanted to text you about tha’, yeah… Broke up ‘round Christmas joost last year.”

  
His face dampered yet again.   
“Oh… I'm sorreh. I wish you would've I-I probably would’ve answered.”

  
“It's not a problem. I mean, I can't blame you. I barely made an effort to earn your friendship.”

  
Alex placed an endearing hand on his old friend’s shoulder.   
“Don't talk like that, Ma’ffew. Your parents had a lot going on and it was hard on ye, if it’s too exhausting to stay in the friendship then you should be able to walk out.”

  
“Thanks, Al’. An’ don't pretend you didn't ‘ave your own problems…” He stopped speaking as his attention switched from Alex to the previously quiet couple in the back. Now, the pair were shouting at each other, drawing the attention of both Alex and the cowboy. The woman angrily pelted a French fry at whom Alex could only assume to be her husband.   
“Well, Robert, maybe I wouldn't have ‘blown up’ on you had you not gone and spent our money on a fucking Classical Camaro!”

  
“You said you wanted a ‘more glamourous’ life, Karen! I saved up for that _for you_ , and this is the thanks I get?”

  
“We have four children, Rob, and we can barely afford to send them to college. A ‘more glamourous life’ is a fucking fever dream! Out there in the parking lot,” She took a deep breath and pointed, “That’s our kids’ _tuition_ , Robert!”

  
Robert looked stunned and started lowering his voice as he now trembled in his seat with his tail tucked between his legs.

  
Alex rolled his eyes.   
“I wonder who’s gonna get _that_ in the divorce,” He joked, eyeing the fancy car.

  
Matt nearly spat his drink at Alex’s cynical comment. After a moment, his attention turned back to Matt and put his drink down.   
“Anyways, it's been nice, but have got to shower,” Alex groaned and got up.

  
“Alex we’ve barely been talking two minutes and you're already-”

  
“Matt, a shower, I'm not going off again. I'll be out in a few.”

  
Matt rolled his eyes and watched the bartender point Alex in the direction of the bathroom. Alex grabbed his backpack, gave Matt a brief wink and disappeared into the bathroom. Matt simply sighed and turned back to the bartender.

  
“Old friend, eh?” The bartender asked as he collected Alex’s half-drunk whiskey.

  
“Oh, he were gonna come back to tha’…”

  
“That boy is a lightweight, and I don't mean to pry, but any man with classics major pro’ly don't know how to handle his drinkin’.”

  
“Well, you're not wrong,” Matt chuckled.

  
“So, you two go back?”

  
He finished his cleaning of the counter and leaned on it with his arms crossed, focus entirely on Matt. He could tell the bartender was bored. Besides the football game and the couple with a divorce lawyer in their near future, the man was one of the only staff in a modern relic. The bar had all the makings of a classical western saloon; ox skull on the wall, old leather decor, orange lighting… all completed the aesthetic besides the harsh neon sign just outside the door telling the passerby’s whether or not they're welcome. No doubt he was lonely.

  
“Yeah, grew up together. Crazy coincidence that we were to see each other here. I knew he wanted to travel one day, but I was thinkin’ he were more into Greece or Paris- not the states.”

  
“Like I was sayin ‘bout those guys with classic majors, all about the poetry and the literature and the fancy food. Nuthin’ fancy ‘bout burgers and fries, unless they're Beth's. That woman would work miracles in this ‘ere kitchen.”

  
Matt grinned.

  
“Actually, Alex used to buy those stupid pre-made pizza dough things an’ he would make this incredible pizza, then he’d hide jalepeños in one slice so it were always a game of roulette. Great for parties. I've been craving that pizza fer a while, now, actually. He were just good in the kitchen, too is all,” Matt said, noticing his babbling a second too late.

  
The bartender widened his stare.

  
“Gee, sounds more like an ex-wife than an old friend,” He laughed

  
Matt chuckled and took a cautious sip. The conversation was deadening along with Matt’s phone, leaving him nothing to do but drink in silence after it ended. The couple in the corner were now crying and avoiding each other, adding more tension to the equation. After a minute or two, Matt tried to pick it up again.

  
“So how long ‘ave you-” Matt cut himself off when he saw Alex step out of the bathroom. His hair was beyond fucked up from a lousy job of towel-drying and his new bright blue graphic tee-shirt and gray sweatpants did nothing to complement his leather jacket, which he still wore with pride.

  
“Well _that_ didn't last very long,” Matt said, raising his eyebrows.

  
“That's what yer mum said last nigh’,” Alex fired back. “And it were a pay shower. Didn't ‘ave enough change fer more than 3 minutes.”

  
“Also, I believe you mentioned tequila and,” He put half-fists over his eyes, miming binoculars, then put the charade down, “I don't see any.”

  
Matt rolled his eyes at Alex’s antics and ordered two shots. The bartender placed one in front of each man and resumed cleaning the same stretch of counter he had been for the past five minutes. Matt lifted his shot to Alex’s and started, “To-”

  
Alex poured it into his mouth with no hesitation, shook his head and flipped the glass upside-down.

  
“No toast, then, alright.”

  
Matt took his own with the same brevity Alex had and winced. He let the alcohol take its effects and continued talking with Alex. For the most part, they let nostalgia get the better of them and replayed childhood stories with one another until Alex began to talk about college, and his reasoning behind traveling to America. Matt took the opportunity to tell Alex about every inch of his motorcycle, which would have put him right to sleep if Alex hadn't been so intent on wanting to hear Matt's voice for an eternity.

  
After what felt like hours, Matt paid for both of their drinks (and Alex’s impulsive order of fries), tipped the bartender, and left. Alex approached him as he put on his helmet in the parking lot.

  
“Where are you gonna sleep?” He asked, opening the door to his van.

  
“Eh, there's a motel ‘bout two miles back that I stayed in last night and didn't get very far today. I'll either go back there or just ride tonight.”

  
“Oh,”

  
Matt slumped back on the seat.  
“You sound disappointed.”

  
Alex began awkwardly sputtering like a jammed engine.   
“Oh, I- um, I were just gonna suggest you could just… spend the night wi’f me in me van… Large mattress back there an’-”

  
Matt grinned.

  
“Sure, just like 4th form. Remember when we camped in your dad’s pick-up?”

  
“Yeah! Yeah. And you got too cold an’ woke up hugging me cos I were warm.”

  
Matt’s face reddened.   
“I didn't think you were awake, is all… I'll-I’ll follow you down the road,” he said.

  
Alex got behind the wheel and looked to his left at Matt, who was giving him a thumbs-up and revving his motorcycle. Alex gulped and turned out of the parking lot. He blinked away the effects of the alcohol and focused on his driving. He finally found a distant enough backroad to park on and drove slightly off-road, checking his rearview to make sure Matt was still following, then cut the engine and flicked on the generator. The back of the van lit up with purple Christmas lights and soft music began playing from an iPod jack.

  
Matt pulled in beside him and secured his motorcycle before knocking on the window as if it were his front door. Alex unlocked it and popped it open, inviting Matt to come in as he hung his towel on the dry-cleaned hooks.

  
“Take off your boots first, please. Just put ‘em in the floor in front’a the backseat.”

  
Matt obliged and tossed his bag to Alex, who was knocked over by its mass. Matt soon joined him in the back and took a second to take in his surroundings.

  
“I'm surprised you managed to keep your sheets clean,” Matt remarked.

  
“I surprised meself there. Hold on, I'm gonna change into me night clothes.”

  
By “night clothes” Alex meant: “taking off my leather jacket and sunglasses”.

  
“Ah, you've got a television,” Matt pointed out, reaching to turn it on. Alex stopped wrestling with his sleeve to try to stop him but he was too late. The DVD resumed where he had stopped it, and obscene noises flooded the small space. Both of their faces turned bright red before Alex nearly punched the power button.

  
“Geez, Al…”

  
“It's lonely out here, y’know?” Alex croaked.

  
Matt immediately lightened the mood after a long moment of silence.   
“When was the last time you shagged, even?”

  
Alex paused.

  
“Uhh, last November, I think. Joost a little too drunk to remember the specifics but I don't think she liked me very much after I fell asleep under her.”

  
Matt exploded into laughter.

  
“Holy shit! No wonder you're lonely! You didn't even get any on your 26th birthday that's just… that's just sad, Al.”

  
Alex looked shameful, but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't been trying. He never had much of a way with anyone, and had gotten more than used to rejection. Had his hopes not been relentlessly conditioned he would have done the same to Matt, but Matt was different. Matt wasn't the cute girl across the bar, or the guy playing darts with his shirt off that came to regret squeezing Alex’s ass. He was Matt; his old best friend who had- despite his aesthetics- hardly changed since he last knew him. He knew of Matt’s impulses and confidence, he also knew how pathetic he looked right now, staring at him like that.

  
_You fucking idiot._

  
Alex pried his eyes away from his friend, but Matt’s linger for a second longer than they should. They find themselves searching for anything else in the room to distract from the brief session of intense eye contact. Alex quickly reaches across Matt’s outstretched legs to grab two joysticks.

  
“I have this Atari, too and it's- oof!”

  
Alex buckled when Matt’s knee impaled him in the gut. He collapsed over Matt’s legs as the larger man shook with victorious laughter.

  
“Owwwww,” Alex groaned, pulling the gaming console towards the television with a sigh of defeat and sitting up.

  
“What was that for, Matthew?” He asked, with just a tinge of hurt in his voice.

  
“Fun,” He said with a shrug. “We used to do shit like that all the time, Al. What makes this any different?”

  
 _What does make_ this _different from then?_

  
Alex’s stare grew more and more vacant along with his mind. In some distant universe, Matt began to fiddle with the console while waiting for an answer to his question. Alex was too busy with his head being stuck in memories of them. The two boys concerned with tire swings, bubblegum, passing notes, bicycles, beer, girls, cars, and setting things on fire. Now, there were two men, both with very little idea as to what they were doing with their own lives, much less the other’s, considering they’d missed 8 years of it.

  
“We’re older now.”

  
“Wot?” Matt asked, seemingly forgetting he’d even asked.

  
“I mean, we used to know everything ‘bout each other. You're practically a stranger now,” Alex explained.

  
Matt raised an eyebrow and rested the console in his lap.

  
“A stranger wouldn't know your greatest weakness…” Matt muttered.

  
“And… wot would that be, exactly?”

  
Seconds after Alex asked, Matt’s hands grabbed onto the sides of his waist, and his fingers moved sporadically just below his ribs. He let out a high-pitched whine and leaned back, erupting into a mad fit of laughter.

  
“Your gut is most vulnerable to tickling.”

  
Alex squirmed in Matt’s playful grasp, throwing his limbs out in hopes of stopping his “attacker”. He brought his knees to his chest and turned away from him in another attempt to hinder Matt’s relentless torture. Matt immediately saw around it and put one hand on his thigh and the other on his neck, reducing him to a writhing, cackling mess.   
  
Alex strategically landed an elbow strike into Matt’s hip, rolled over, and pinned him against the mattress, landing on top of him in a heap. The whole situation felt very childish. _It’s a fucking tickle-wrestling match_ , he reminded himself. Beneath him, Matt’s hips bucked up wildly, and repeatedly. Alex took a moment to interpret the motion as he began his own attack at Matt’s stomach, throwing him into a fit of chuckling.

  
 _Disrupting his balance?_  
Sexual attraction?  
Muscle spasms?  
…Gee, way to over-analyze, you fucking twat.

  
Alex decided to go with his first thought when Matt winds his hips to the right, catapulting him to the other side of the mattress. Matt took advantage of Alex’s stumble and mounted himself on his legs. The tickling resumed, but Alex was far more helpless this time.

  
Alex desperately tried to relax despite his situation. His choked laughter continued, as did his internal monologue of _don't get a boner, don't get a boner, don't get a boner, please don't get a boner._

Too late.

Clearly, it didn't take Matt long to notice.

“What's this?”

“Wh-What's wha-ut?” Alex asked between breaths.

“This,” Matt growled, sneaking a firm hand down to Alex's upper thigh. He squeezed just enough to evoke a surprised gasp from Alex. Matt's other hand slipped under Alex's shirt, extinguishing all tones of childlike fun. Alex winced at the feeling of Matt's cold hand against his chest, and how it contrasted to the warmth spreading to his legs.

Alex's head began to spin more so than it was before, sending him into a whirlwind of emotions ranging from anxiety to arousal. Matt wasted no time in untying Alex's sweatpants and jerking them down to his knees along with his boxers. Matt reached his bag and procured a bottle of travel-size lubricant and a condom from the same pouch almost instantaneously, as if he knew this were going to happen.

“Matt, wait!”

“Why?”

“I could ask you the same question!” Alex hissed.

“You can't tell me you don't want it.”

Alex sighed and relaxed. In an instant, he made the decision to shut up and let whatever was about to happen, happen.

 _Of course_ I _want it, but why does_ he _?_

  
Now he was in a predicament. Matt had already begun spreading the slippery substance around his middle and forefinger, and his jeans were halfway undone. Alex could simply lie back at accept it all, which could make all of this nothing more than a tipsy mistake, or he could sit up and kiss him until his lips hurt, sealing the deal. Matt had other ideas.

“Turn over,” He ordered.

Alex eagerly complied and winced as Matt spared no time with pushing the two fingers into him. The bitter tang of blood flooded his mouth from where his molars dug into his cheek to cope with the mixture of pain and pleasure being supplied to him.

“Get on with it,” Alex growled.

“Really? You never liked skipping straight to the main event. You'd even re-wind the beginning of movies just so you could,” Matt paused to curve his fingers downward and perform a quick series of thrusts, “Get to know-” Matt was cut off by Alex's rather load groan of contentment, “The characters better. Even if it was a VHS, you'd break out a pen and rewind it right to the beginning because you were afraid of missing something important.”   
Matt removed his fingers, earning a quiet sigh from Alex. A wrapper audibly wrinkled then tore, followed by a stern grunt and a zipper.

“Be thankful I'm not.”

Matt's next move was anything but subtle. After positioning himself, Matt's still-slick hand covered Alex's mouth, while the other rested partially over Alex's own hand for balance. He rested his head on Alex's shoulder and delivered a quick pump of his hips, sliding into him in one smooth motion. Alex couldn't help but let out a muffled scream from beneath Matt's hand.

_Oh, shit, he's huge… Rookie mistake._

He ducked his head in an attempt to shake off Matt's hand before he continued to thrust, but he simply readjusted his grip. He shook more violently, this time attempting to bite his palm, but Matt got the message before Alex had the chance.

“Slow down, please! It hurts, Ma'ffew…”

Matt nodded and quickly kissed his cheek, moving the hand from Alex's mouth to his neck, I'm-turn eliciting a gasp from Alex, who knew all-too-well what was to come. Matt could steal his breath in the perfect moment, either as he was coming or just before. He could fuck him into the mattress so hard that the car shook or he could lie on his back and allow Alex to take control. Whichever he chose, it was Matt, and he knew Alex better than anyone alive. With Matt and Alex, any choice seemed like the right choice to the other, or at least until morning.

Outside, the motorcycle revved, bringing Alex to his senses. He shot up and opened the trunk upon noticing the lack of Matt to his left. As his bare feet hit the dusty ground, a loud clap of thunder rang out through the many grooves and peaks of the desert, seeming to shake the earth itself.

M _att was **leaving**._

All of his belongings were in his stupid backpack, which was lazily thrown over one shoulder. His helmet was unbuckled, making all the more obvious that he'd gotten ready in a hurry. An icy wind nearly blew the bandana right off of Matt's face.

“Matthew! What the fuck do you think you're doing?”

His head fell back and the motorcycle engine cut off.

“Don't you fucking dare, Matthew. Don't you fucking _dare_!”

Matt's shoulders tensed and his head swiveled in shock. Alex knew how Matt remembered him. He was quiet and fundamentally submissive, accepting just about anything that was done or said to him with little to no defiance. Alex was a boy entirely void of bravado or boastfulness, certainly not the type anyone would expect to confront them. Except now he was.

“I'm sorry, Al. I-I were on the fence about this anyway, I just couldn't wait for you to wake up I'll come back to the car, I'm sorry.”

“That's horse shit! If you want to leave, just leave! There's no point to staying if you don't even want to be here!”

Matt's eyes searched for a way to diffuse Alex, who was fuming like a bomb.

“Alex,” He dismounted his bike and took off the helmet. After a quick glance at the sky he began to pull out the cover. He continued, “We've still got that Atari, and it's very clear that I've made a horrible mistake. I were tired, an' not thinking clearly.”

If he had any energy, Alex would have continued to fight him, just to make sure he knew every reason why he was wrong. Instead, he jumped back into the comfort of the car and nearly fell back asleep the second his head touched the pillow. If the sun had hardly arisen, so did Alex, but given the thick of the overcast, there was no sun to be seen.

He could barely remember Matt slipping in next to him, but when he woke up for the second time, he was surely there. For a moment, Alex simply stayed down, admiring Matt's face as he slept with pure adoration. Eventually, he sat up and looked out the window. Raindrops littered the glass, but the worst of the storm had clearly passed. Given the clouds, the plains seemed more three-dimensional, with one expanse in the sky and another on the ground.

Matt's arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him into a warm embrace.   
“Hey, Al.”

“Hmm?”

“Maybe when the rain stops we can go for a ride on my bike, yeah?”

Alex turned around face him and planted a soft kiss on his lips.

“When the rain stops.”

**Author's Note:**

> anyway yeah 
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> 
>  
> 
> wow you can really tell where I rushed bc I just needed to write


End file.
